Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Review of Finding Olivia by Micalea Smeltzer

Description:

New Adult Contemporary Romance intended for readers 18+.

How far would you go to find yourself?

That’s the question that’s been haunting Olivia Owens for years.

All
Olivia has ever wanted to do is live and make mistakes, but her
preacher father has made that impossible. She believes that her years at
college will be her ticket into the real world and her chance to be
wild and spontaneous.

But she’s never been able to do it on her own.

At
the start of her sophomore year, she only has four things crossed off
her Live List, but that’s all about to change thanks to a chance
encounter with Trace Wentworth. She’s about to learn that there’s more
to this reformed bad boy than just his looks and panty dropping smile.

Trace can’t explain what it is that draws him to Olivia.

All he knows is that he wants to get to know the girl with the sad smile but sparkle in her eyes.

When
she tells him about her list, he knows that this is his chance to get
to know Olivia Owens. Trace is determined to show Olivia that she can do
all the things she’s ever wanted to do. So, he begins to help her cross
things off her list, even the more outlandish requests.

What happens along the way is more than what Olivia or Trace ever expected.

Review:

As with all other Micalea Smeltzer's books, this one was fantastic! It might be one of my favorites. I loved the characters. Olivia and Trace were well thought out and consistent throughout the story.

I'm not a huge fan of the whole broken girls thing that most of the new adult genre has going on right now. To me, it's just depressing. This book had some of this, but it was done with tact and didn't drag the story down.

I could go on all day about how wonderful this book was. BUT, I don't want to give anything away that could ruin the experience for y'all. So I will leave it by saying that this is a must read new adult contemporary romance. It gets five glittery stars since it's so fantabulous!

Excerpt:

The dorm
room door opened and I hastily stuffed the piece of paper back into my pocket.

Avery
dropped her backpack on the floor and promptly pulled her hair up into a
ponytail.

I
grabbed my textbook off my bed, and placed it in my lap, pretending to be doing
my homework so Avery wouldn’t start questioning me about what I had been doing.

I had
never explained my list to anyone, let alone shown them, but I was beginning to think differently. Avery was my
best friend but I certainly didn’t plan on showing her. She’d try to cross everything
off in one night.

“Have
you heard from Trace?” She asked, sagging into her desk chair, dejectedly. I
guessed she’d had a hard time in class.

“Of the
fact that you’re practically a horny teenage boy? Hardly,” I snorted.

“But
seriously,” she whined, still twirling, “what are you going to wear?”

She
finally came to a stop and swayed dizzily.

“Probably
jeans and a sweatshirt,” I shrugged.

Avery
made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “No! You can’t wear that!”

“We’ll
be in the park and it’s cold out,” I shrugged.

“You
still can’t wear that! A sweatshirt is completely unsuitable!” She gawked at me
like I had grown three heads.

“I want
to be comfortable,” I reasoned.

“You can
be comfortable when you’re dead!” She squawked.

“Avery,”
I rolled my eyes, “don’t be dramatic.”

“I am not being dramatic,” she spun in her
chair again. “I’m just telling you what everyone with a vagina knows about the
rules of dating,” she scoffed. “Everyone, except you, that is,” she added.

“Why
does there have to be rules?” I groaned. “It’s stupid,” I complained, falling
back on my bed, the textbook on my lap falling to the side.

“There
are rules for the sake of our sanity,” Avery answered, striding across the room
and sitting on the end of my bed. I kicked at her with my feet, trying to
dislodge her.

“I’m
wearing a sweatshirt,” I mumbled, “whether you like it or not. I don’t want to
be cold.”

“Olivia,”
she whined, “that’s the point, you’re supposed to get cold, so he can offer you
his coat.”

I sat
up, staring her down. “What is this? The colonial age? I swear, what handbook
are you reading this from?” I grumbled.

“The one
that’s been around since the dawn of time,” she reasoned with a wave of her
manicured hands.

“And
that’s exactly why it needs to be thrown away,” I pointed out. “Women should be
able to stand on their own and not depend on a guy. Let alone these stupid
rules that are the so-called guide to dating. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever
heard.”

Avery
grinned. “I don’t need to depend on a guy. I’m perfectly capable of taking care
of myself. I just like to take a ride on their fun stick every now and then.”

“Oh,
they do,” she nodded, grinning. “Back to the important matter at hand, these
rules are a means to getting laid. To a guy, a sweatshirt is like practically
wearing a chastity belt, telling him that these goods are not for sale.”

“Oh my
God,” I buried my face in my hands, my hair falling around me. “When did this
turn into a mission for me to get laid? Besides, my goods are definitely not for sale.”

“Girl,
you’re a sophomore in college, who’s still a virgin. This has always been a
mission to get you some sex, some great
sex, and Trace is just the guy to do it. I can tell. It’s in the way he walks.”

I let my
hands drop. “I’m not a virgin.”

“What? I
thought you-”

“Remember
last year, at that party you dragged me to?” I asked.

Avery’s
mouth formed a perfect O. “No! Olivia! Not that guy! He looked like an ape!”

“He was
pretty hairy,” I snorted.

Avery
shuddered. “There’s no way that was a pleasant experience.”

“It
wasn’t,” I shrugged. “Is it supposed to be?”

She
looked at me like I had completely gone off my rocker this time. “Yes! It’s
supposed to be amazing!”

“It
lasted like two minutes, how is that amazing?” I asked, avoiding Avery’s gaze
by scrunching the bottom of my shirt in my hands.

Avery’s
eyes threatened to bug out of her head. “Two minutes? That’s it?!”

“Well,
yeah,” I shrugged.

“Oh,
girl, you can do sooooo much better than that,” Avery chuckled. “So much
better,” she reiterated.

“What
did you mean by, it’s in the way he walks?” I asked.

“What?”
She asked, looking down at her hot pink nails.

“You
said that you could tell Trace would be good in bed, that it’s in the way he
walks,” I repeated her earlier statement.

“Oh!”
She exclaimed. “Some guys have this walk
they do. They don’t even know they’re doing it. If my experience speaks for
anything, every guy that I’ve been with, that has the walk, knows exactly what he’s doing.” She rolled her hips and
licked her lips to further drive home her point. “Trust me, Olivia, Trace can
show you a good time.”

“Whatever,”
Avery hopped up from my bed, scampering to her side of the room, “you suck.”

I turned
my attention back to the homework I really needed to finish, and forced myself
to stop thinking about Trace’s walk, and wondering if Avery was right.

Micalea Smeltzer is an author from Virginia. Her name
is pronounced Muh-call-e-uh. She is permanently glued to her computer, where
she constantly writes. She has to listen to music when she writes and has a
playlist for every book she’s ever started. When she’s not writing, she can be
found reading a book or playing with her three dogs.